


Lover Boy

by Caidepgun



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Kenobi needs a hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Chancellor!Obi-wan like the older one, Drama, Eventual Romance, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Force Bond (Star Wars), Heartbreak, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lot and lots of pining, M/M, Mutual Pining, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Padawan Braids, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Pining, Protective Qui-Gon Jinn, Rebel! Darth Maul, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Suitless Darth Vader, Weird Plot Shit, Woooo 2 Obi-wans!, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi, someone come hug me, there will be smut i assure u
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caidepgun/pseuds/Caidepgun
Summary: A 16-year-old Obi-wan appears in a universe much like his own - except that the Jedi are in exile and the Republic is gone, and with no memory of how he got there the boy desperately tries to get accustomed to life under the Empire's evil clutches.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 68
Kudos: 299





	1. Chapter 1

Coruscant's lights shook him awake. Obi-wan awoke to the foul smell of rotten flesh mixed with salty metal. He felt soft, squishy old bags of garbage beneath him. In disgust, he sprang from the ground to his feet - or at least he tried, he stumbled up as his elbow pierced through a plastic bag, goopy liquid oozed out and stained his tunic. He winced as the fluid soaked his sleeve and made contact with his skin. 

He patted his robes, trying to rid himself of the rotten scent before he surveyed the area.

It was a quiet night, Coruscant's neon lights shone brightly through the streets, but the city was void of all life. He took his tunic off and left on his sleeveless brown undershirt. He tossed his tunic on the ground, with his lightsaber fastened to his belt he began to roam the empty streets. 

With not a single soul to be found, Obi-wan stared off into the night sky. A strangled feeling overcame him. He continued to walk through the streets, occasional windows slammed shut as he passed by. 

He swallowed. 

He wandered from street corner to street corner till he turned and saw a group of men carrying blasters all adorned in white militaristic suits. He hid behind a postal post. 

The men gathered around a group of men and women kneeling on the ground as they laughed. Obi-wan analyzed the men. He'd never seen soldiers like this on Coruscant before, the planet didn't need this level of security.

_Fifteen._ Obi-wan thought to himself

He reached for his lightsaber.

"Hands in the air."

He felt the cold hilt of a blaster on the back of his head. He grudgingly followed the soldier's instructions, the man guided Obi-wan back to the group of soldiers celebrating.

The soldiers all titled their heads, "Another straggler?" One of the soldiers asked.

"Yeah. I found him hiding behind that postal post." Obi-wan groaned as the soldier smacked the back of his head with the blaster. He led Obi-wan to the gathering of civilians all kneeling on the ground. "Sit." He commanded.

"Wait." One soldier approached Obi-wan. He snatched his lightsaber from his belt. "What's this?" The man fiddled with the device, aggressively pressing the hilt as he tried to ignite it. _The safety's on_. Obi-wan noted.

The soldier shrugged the device off, he flung the lightsaber into a dark crevice. Obi-wan frowned. _Have they never seen a lightsaber?_

"That kinda looked like what Lord Vader uses." A soldier noted. He was met with skeptical looks. In spite of their white masks, the men were very expressive.

"I don't give a shit." The soldier that threw his lightsaber snarled.

_Lord Vader?_

"You're a Jedi." The man beside him whispered, "Do you have a death wish?" The Dathomirian man growled. 

Obi-wan shot a confused glance at the man

"You shouldn't be here!" He aggressively mumbled.

"Hey, Shut up!" A trooper warned.

The Dathomirian beside him made no mind to the threat, "You have to leave. The Empire's looking for Jedi."

"The Empire?"

"Yes! The fucking Empire." 

"Why?"

" _Force_! You're being hunted, purged, wiped from existence. You need to leave!" The man nagged.

"Wha-" Obi-wan's sentence was cut short by a trooper's boot. He coughed as he held his stomach in pain. 

"I said SHUT UP!" The soldier kicked him again, only this time he heel dug into the lean muscle of his shoulder. Obi-wan gasped from the pain. The trooper signaled at two other soldiers, they rushed over to his side. "Pick him up, I need to blow off some steam."

They joisted Obi-wan off the ground, the teen flinched as the troopers fingers dug into his triceps. They held him facing the soldier that kicked him. 

"What a pretty face you got there. Rebel scum." The soldier lunged, his hand made into a fist, he struck Obi-wan's face. His neck cracked from the unwelcomed blow.

He jerked against the two men holding him, their fingers bruised his underarm in response. He moaned at his muscle being split in two from the pressure.

The soldier struck him once more, his Padawan braid tousled in the air. The man leaned forward and yanked Obi-wan's braid. "What's this?" He curled Obi-wan's hair on his finger.

Obi-wan didn't respond. 

"It looks good on you, really brings out your feminine features." The man chuckled before he retracted his hand and coiled back preparing to hit him again. Obi-wan's eyes slammed shut as the man gave his stomach an uppercut. 

Obi-wan gasped at the sudden lack of air in his lungs, he darted his head to his lightsaber, the device levitated off the ground for a brief second. 

_I shouldn't._

He hesitated. The man's knuckles let out a soft pop as they smashed Obi-wan's nose in. The young padawan heaved, "You will let me go." Blood gurgled down on his lips.

"We will let you go." The men released Obi-wan, he fumbled to his feet, the padawan wiped the blood from his face. 

"Why'd you let him go?" 

The men snapped out of their trance, they lunged forward and tried to tackle Obi-wan, but they were violently flung across the street, their blasters fell to the ground, the Dathomirian man quickly grabbed the gun and began shooting at the soldiers, the woman next to him followed and picked up the spare blaster.

His lightsaber flew to his hand, he turned off the safety and ignited the blade. It hummed in his hand. The men shot at him, using the saber he successfully deflected every blast, even going as far as hitting the soldiers with their own attacks.

The soldier that punched him fled behind the group, he ran to a stereo and frantically dialed, "We need back up!"

More of his men dropped to the ground. The soldier turned his head to Obi-wan, the padawan was mere feet away from him. "There's a man with a light sword."

He ended the comlink, grabbed his blaster and aimed it at the padawan. Obi-wan sliced the gun's hilt off, the blaster short-circuited in the soldier's hand. He instinctively dropped it when it burned him.

The soldier stepped back, trying to distance himself from Obi-wan, but as he did so Obi-wan took two - closing in on the man. 

His lightsaber roared against the man's throat. "You're a Jedi." The man shifted against the wall, Obi-wan had cornered him on.

"Something of the sorts."

The soldier gulped, Obi-wan flicked blood off his upper lip. The padawan removed the saber from the man's throat. 

"Who do you work for?" Obi-wan turned off the lightsaber.

"T-the Empire."

"The what?"

"The fucking Empire, you stupid Jedi." The Dathomirian man flipped a soldier's corpse and began looting, taking the blaster and knife. 

"But the Republic." Obi-wan looked over his shoulder, the men and women once kneeling were now searching the soldiers' scattered bodies for weapons, the Dathomirian man signed.

"The Republic is gone." He stood and strolled over to Obi-wan with a blaster in hand. He pointed the gun at the soldier's face. "The Empire took over."

"You spoke of a purge." Obi-wan placed a hand on the hilt of the blaster, - lowering the gun, the soldier sighed.

"Yes, Darth Sidious killed all of them." He paused.

"That's impossible." Obi-wan furrowed his brows. "I was just with my master."

"I assure you. It's not only possible, it's the reality we live in."

"No." Obi-wan lamented, he stood there for a moment - processing the information. "My master is alive." He concluded. 

"I doubt it, Jedi." The Dathomirian man yanked the soldier by his collar, blaster pointing at the man's abdomen, "All the Jedi are dead aren't they?" He grinned as he threatened the stormtrooper.

"They are." An audible anxious gulp could be heard from under his helmet.

"See?" The Dathomirian man pushed the soldier, blaster firmly glued to his back. "It's strange, seeing a Jedi straggler."

"I-" Obi-wan placed a worried hand on his forehead, "Master." He whispered.

The Dathomirian stared at him, "So, why are you here?" He guided the soldier toward the group of men and women holding weapons. 

"I don't remember." Obi-wan followed his lead. "I don't remember coming here." He stopped walking, he placed a hand on his chin - scratching the skin. "The last thing I remember was being on a mission with my master."

The Dathomirian was skeptical of the Padawan's remarks but didn't question him. "Do you have a name, Jedi?"

It took the boy a moment to realize what the alien asked him, "Yes, yes. I do." 

"Then speak it."

"Obi-wan." He extended his hand to the Dathomirian.

The alien smiled back, he took his free hand and shook the Padawan's hand, "It's nice to meet you."

"What about you." The continued walking to the group, "What's your name."

The Dathomirian let out a chuckle, "I don't have one."

  
  


| | |

  
  


Vader stomped his way to the control room, irritated. "I'm surrounded by idiots." He murmured, grimacing at the memory of his past interaction with his fleet.

He entered the control room, the admiral straightened his posture as soon as the Sith walked in. Vader rolled his eyes. 

"What is it now?" 

The admiral nervously cleared his throat. "We've just been notified of a Jedi Knight on Coruscant." 

"Good. Kill him." He turned his heels ready to walk out.

"Lord Vader." The admiral stepped forward, mustering the last drop of courage he had left in him. "The Jedi Knight goes by the name of Obi-wan."

Vader's eyes snapped, he violently turned to the admiral, with a sinister smile on his lips, "You're sure of this?"

"Yes, my Lord." 

Vader heaved out a full-body laugh, his shoulders bobbed up and down with childish glee, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Take me to him."

| | | 

  
  


Obi-wan gawked that the ship, the men and women began to board it, with quick steps each and every one of them ran inside. The Dathomirian man stood beside the Padawan, he looked around - scanning the area.

"We should be good here." The Dathomirian said as Obi-wan watched a man haul the stormtrooper on board. "You should get going."

The man turned and began walking away from the ship. 

"What about you?" Obi-wan followed his lead, the ship behind them prepared for take-off.

"That doesn't matter." The Dathomirian used one hand to push Obi-wan back, the boy didn't respond instead he continued walking next to the alien.

"I can help you." 

"You need to help yourself and get on that cruiser!" The Dathomirian pointed directly at Obi-wan.

"That wouldn't be very noble of me. I can not flee in the face of danger. It isn't Jedi like." 

The Dathomirian man signed, "If we lose you." He settled a hand on the boy's shoulder, "We can't lose you, we have few Jedi left as it is."

"So there are still Jedi?"

"Of course there are!" The Dathomiriam shoved Obi-wan back, the teen stumbled backwards, "And we need to keep it that way!" 

"But what about you, you can't possibly go back there by yourself." Obi-wan pointed at the city.

"I can and I will!" The man distanced himself from the padawan. As Obi-wan caught up to the Dathomirian, the Chiss girl ran outside.

With a concerned look on her face, she yelled, "Aren't you going to get on?'

Obi-wan shook his head. The girl shrugged her shoulders and entered the ship before it took off.

"You fucking insane kid." 

Obi-wan's lips thinned. 

They re-entered the city, Obi-wan carefully hiked beside the man. They searched high and low for Rebel refugees - those who had been caught by the Empire. 

"Dammit." The man cursed as he pulled the Padawan into an alleyway, they rushed behind a computer.

"What is it?" Obi-wan lowered his voice, as he watched a platoon of stormtroopers patrol the main street. The man paused, a distant voice order, "Find him."

The soldiers turned to where the voice came from, saluted and broke into frantic searching. The Dathomirian man turned to Obi-wan, "Don't make a fucking noise."

The teen nodded, Obi-wan and the Dathomirian intently stared at the men scattered in the streets. A few them began breaking and entering into homes, one lone trooper approached the alley they were hiding in.

Obi-wan's hand hovered above his lightsaber as the stormtrooper steps drew closer. The soldier paused. The Dathomirian man scooted to the wall, safely hiding. Obi-wan followed, unaware of the pile of wrapping paper under his feet he caused a sharp crinkle as he moved.

The stormtrooper - now on alert - lifted his blaster and slowly moved to a vantage point, with swift movement he cornered both Obi-wan and the Dathomirian.

"Gotcha." 

The Dathomirian shot Obi-wan a death glare, Obi-wan grimaced before he had a weak smile, the man mocked him by returning the expression.

"Come out slowly with your hands in the air." 

Obi-wan lifted his hands slowly until he flicked his wrist and with the Force pried the stroomtroper's blaster out of his hand.

The gun shot off a blast. The Dathomirian man lunged forward and tackled the soldier, once on the ground he pulled out his own blaster and shot the soldier in the head. 

Obi-wan shuddered at his brutality. 

"Fuck!" The man snickered, "This is why you should have gone on the cruiser!"

"I-" 

Hordes of soldiers began to pour through the alley, the Dathomirian sprang from the corpse and shoved Obi-wan behind the dumpster. 

"Fuck!" He scanned the area, there was a shop door in the alley but that was several feet away, they'd be shot down before they could reach it.

Obi-wan peered over the dumpster, rows of soldiers barracked them in. He swallowed the lump in this throat. "They have us cornered."

The Dathomirian man rolled his eyes, "Stupid Jedi." He yanked Obi-wan by his Padawan braid and directed his attention to the shop entrance. "I have a plan."

| | | 

Vader sighed. He'd been led all the way to Coruscant from the Outer Rim, into the city where he had to find Obi-wan himself because the clones grew dumber by the day.

He kicked some debris as he wandered the streets with hordes of men following him.

He'd taken a small portion of his army to the city, and instructed them to look. Vader's patience grew thin.

"Lord Vader-" A stormtrooper ran beside the Sith - a mistake.

Vader enraged threw the soldier several yards away, shattering the man's bones with a gentle crack as he hit the wall.

"What?!" He snarled.

From the corner of his eyes saw a blast shot into the night sky. Vader smiled, "Gotcha!" The Sith sprinted past his men - shoving anyone who stood in his way.

A rush of dopamine rushed through his veins, "Finally! How I waited for this day. Kenobi!" 

| | | 

Obi-wan peeked over the dumpster, turned to the Dathomirian, "Ready!"

"You better fucking be!" The alien took a grenade out of his robe, "Only shot we got."

He pressed the button, the device began blinking. The Dathomirian launched the bomb into the air, the stormtroopers retreated from the alley to the main street, in a frenzy.

"Now!" 

Obi-wan mustered up all the strength he had and levitated the dumpster and flung it across the alley - blocking the stormtroopers.

The padawan dropped to his knees, exhausted and impressed that he could use the Force in such a way. The Dathomirian man joisted him to his feet. Obi-wan stumbled as he and the Rebel ran to the shop entrance.

The Dathomirian kicked the door down and shoved Obi-wan inside.

"Fuck that was close. You alright?" 

"I'm fine." Obi-wan stood by himself. He looked around the café they had just broken into. A bagel caught his eye. He lunged over the counter and into the pantry. 

He bit into the bagel, "Let's keep moving."

The Dathomirian looked over the counter, then back at Obi-wan and smiled, "Darn no quiches." 

| | | 

Vader's breathing became more and more irregular, he stopped when he reached a crowd of stormtroopers, some of his men fought back, but there were those who ran to safety.

"Cease fire!" He yelled, "This is my kill!" 

The Sith smiled. He hurried through the crowd, ignited his lightsaber, Obi-wan's eyes widened in shock as the Sith ran toward him.

The Padawan blocked the attack - nearly falling as he did so. The impact made him stumble, as blue clashed against crimson he saw bright golden eyes first filled with hatred then confusion.

Vader frowned, "Who the hell are you?" 

The Sith punched Obi-wan's lower abdomen - causing the teen to drop his guard ever so slightly, Vader seized the opportunity and kicked the pawadan in the stomach, the blow sent him flying across the main street. 

Obi-wan groaned as his back hit the wall, he quickly gathered himself, Vader was on him again, the man's strikes were unpredictable - almost feral. The boy struggled maintaining his defense up.

"What kind…." Vader kicked Obi-wan's thigh - forcing him to kneel, "Of sick joke..." He disarmed Obi-wan in an instant, "Is this?"

Obi-wan heaved as he felt the warm blade against his neck. He stared in awe at the man in front of him, a helpless poise overwhelmed him. 

"Darth Vader!" 

The Sith smiled, he recognized that voice all too well, without lifting the saber from Obi-wan's throat he turned, "Maul! What a traitor like you doing in a dump like this?"

The Dathomirian held up a blaster, collectively all the stormtroopers targeted the man, but the rebel - and apparent traitor, didn't waver.

"Let him go." 

"You're in no position to make demands, Maul." Vader made Obi-wan's lightsaber fly into his hand. Obi-wan gulped. 

"Just let him go, Vader." Maul's eyes locked onto the Sith, ignorant of the men planning to fire at him.

"And if I do?" Vader amused the Dathomirian.

"Take me instead." He lowered his weapon.

"Why settle for one when I can have both?" And with that Vader, signaled a soldier, the soldier shot off a taser and the Dathomirian spasmed to the ground, foam coming out his mouth, he dropped his blaster and a soldier quickly picked it up.

"Now, " Vader turned his attention to the boy, "What is this?" He analyzed, "That's a Padawan's braid, and you look exactly like him when we first met, a few inches shorter." Vader winced, but his grin didn't fade. 

"What's your name Padawan?"

"You're a Sith."

Vader's jaw dropped, he let out a breathy laugh. "You sound exactly like him! That's insane, but you know more high pitched." The man sheathed his lightsaber and fastened it to his side.

He jerked the boy toward him by his braid, "What's your name?"

"You're-"

Vader slammed the boy's head on the ground, the crack of glass and skull caused the stormtroopers to flinch. "Don't make me repeat myself."

"Obi-wan!" 

Vader hummed, "Obi-wan what?"

"Kenobi."

The boy gasped, he felt his hair getting caught on the Sith's cybernetic arm, blood trickled from the side of his head and onto the shatter glass beneath him, his head still pulsated as it readjusting itself from the impact, his eyelids grew heavy. 

"Well, that's unfortunate. I hate him." 

Obi-wan's head throbbed, his vision blurred, the sound of the Sith's voice drifted him off into the unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan is captured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter written a week before now, but I didn't like where i was going so I cut out a bunch of scenes til I was proud of it

Obi-wan woke to a cold splash of water on his face. He coughed and wheezed as he sat upright. With his vision still blurry, he rubbed his eyes - trying to regain his perfect sight. 

"Are you alright?" Maul placed a hand on the padawan's shoulder. Obi-wan wheezed, he tried shaking the hand away, but he was too disoriented to properly fight Maul off. "Hey, hey."

The Dathomirian overpowered Obi-wan by wrapping his arms around the boy, "It's alright."

"I can't see." Obi-wan murmured.

Maul released the boy from his grasps and analyzed the padawan's eyes. "You'll be fine." He gently slapped Obi-wan's face.

"I can't feel the force." The boy was baffled by the playful action. "I can't feel the light."

"They shot us with force inhibitors." Maul stood, but Obi-wan tightly held onto the man's robes - effectively holding him down.

"Where are we?" Obi-wan's hands wandered about the Dathomirian's shoulders.

"We've been captured." 

"Okay, okay." Obi-wan heaved as he slowly regained his vision. He shook his head till he saw Maul's face clearly. "You look scarier than I remember."

Maul chuckled as he rolled his eyes, "Sassy."

Obi-wan scanned the cell. Two stormtroopers stood guard outside the red barrier at the entrance of the cell. 

The padawan gulped, "What do you suppose they'll do to us?" 

"They're gonna either kill or torture me _and_ you, " The Dathomirian glanced at Obi-wan, "You're gonna die." He continued matter-of-factly.

Obi-wan grimaced before he could speak, the door outside the cell clicked open, two new guards wearing all red stepped in, their faces covered with a white veil, in their arms they carried bags. 

They spoke briefly with the stormtroopers, the red barrier dissipated, the two troopers rushed inside and yanked Obi-wan and Maul out, "Don't try anything." 

The two soldiers fastened their blaster behind the two. They were escorted out of the cell and into a grey room.

"Strip." 

"I think the fuck not." The Dathomirian snarled back.

Obi-wan shot the man a shocked look, one of the red guards stepped forward and tased him. Maul groaned.

"Strip."

Obi-wan hesitantly removed his clothes, occasionally making awkward eye contact with a stormtrooper, the soldier quickly turned when Obi-wan looked. In disgust, the teen stood in front of the four men in his undergarments. He looked beside him, Maul had done the same in fear of being tased again.

"Take everything off."

Obi-wan grunted, he removed his underwear and covered himself with his hand. Through his peripherals, he could the Dathomirian in a power stance - feeling immensely proud of himself Obi-wan shook his head in denial. His eyes were drawn to Maul's legs - or lack thereof, the man had cybernetic enhancement done.

Without warning one of the guards dressed in red, hosed them down. The impact of the water knocked the air out of Obi-wan, the teen gasped as the freezing liquid ran down his skin.

Obi-wan crouched beside the wall, shivering. A stormtrooper threw a bag at him, "Get dressed." The teen looked at the bag, he heard Maul's back slap on the wall as the guard sprayed him.

Obi-wan dried himself off using a towel that was in the bag, he shuffled thought it's contents and pulled out a vest with an emblem on it.

Maul coughed, the padawan turned to the Dathomirian. "Fuck." He groaned as a bag was thrown at him.

They both got dressed, dressed in dark blue suits with the Empire's emblem sewn to their left breast pieces. The stormtroopers and guards lead the two into a holding cell, one much cleaner than their previous cell.

They were shoved in, Obi-wan stumbled to the ground while Maul ran back to the entranced and slammed his hands on the barrier, "Hey don't fucking touch my thing!"

Obi-wan looked over and saw a red guard throw their belongings on a table, he looked through their clothes and paused when he came to a small satchel attached to the Dathomirian's belt.

The guard chuckled when he saw what laid inside. Maul pounded the barrier - causing ripples. "Don't fucking touch that!"

The guard put the satchel down.

"What's in that?" Obi-wan patted Maul's back, the Dathomirian's eyes burned with rage.

"They're pictures." Maul rested his head against the barrier in defeat.

Obi-wan's forehead creased. The Dathomirian was upset over pictures? Obi-wan tried to soothe the man, but his attempts were shut down as Maul shook the padawan's hand off him.

Obi-wan retreated further in the cell and took a seat on the cold pavemented ground. He closed his eyes, crossed his legs and inhaled deeply. Meditation always calmed him.

  
  


| | |

  
  


"Darth Vader." A raspy elderly voice called out to Vader, the Sith proudly stood in front of the hologram. 

"Yes, master." The words burned his tongue, his face stern - unphased by the sour taste of forced reverence.

"I've been notified of a Jedi Master's appearance on Coruscant." The man staggered, "The Chancellor of the Rebellion."

Vader nodded, "I regret to inform you that the Chancellor was not on Coruscant, instead an imposter."

"An imposter?" Sidious's tone darkens.

"Yes."

"And you've dealt with a said imposter?"

"Of course, " Vader lied.

Sidious was silent - aware of his apprentice's fib. 

"Master." The scorched his tongue, "Do you remember Darth Maul?" A stupid question, of course, he remembered his own former apprentice.

Darth Sidious hesitated, "Don't toy with me boy." The elderly man warned.

"I found him alongside the imposter, I've been captured for you."

Sidious released a croaking laugh, "Very good, my apprentice. Bring him to me once you're done. I'm sure you two have much to catch up on."

  
  


| | | 

Meditation had been damn near impossible without the use of the Force. Obi-wan furrowed his brows as he scrimmaged around for his inner peace. There was none. His anchor was gone; he felt lost without the Force's guidance, lost with his master's guidance.

He opened his eyes, frustrated at the lack of disciple he had. The Padawan stared at Maul, who was now on the opposite side of the cell, his eyes closed, leaning against the cell wall.

Had Dathomirian fallen asleep? While standing no less, Obi-wan admired the feat before looking at the guards outside their cell.

The two guards dressed in red were still there - standing near the door. The two stormtroopers, one of which was behind a large circular monitor while the other was seated fiddling with his blaster, were awkwardly hanging around.

The stormtrooper behind the monitor violently shook in his seat, "Lord Vader is coming!"

The other stormtrooper quickly sprang to his feet, nearly tipping the chair on the floor as he stood. 

The door clicked open. Vader stepped in. His lips thinned as he glared at the sleeping Dathomirian, Obi-wan quickly stood and shook Maul awake.

Vader walked toward the cell, he took the chair from the stormtrooper and dragged it through the room before he placed it in front of the cell. The glossy red barrier lent itself nicely to the Sith's tanned skin.

"It's been a while. I think it's been 7 years." Vader leaned back against the chair, he crossed his arms. "You look... " He lifted a brow as he scanned the Dathomirian and smiled, "Taller."

Maul straightened himself out, he rotated his neck - cracking his joints in the process. He gently pushed Obi-wan behind him as he stood directly in front of the Sith Lord. 

"Vader." He hissed.

"Maul." The Sith smirked in contentment.

"That's not my name." 

"Then what is?"

Maul was silent. 

"Alright, whatever you say." Vader peered over the Dathomirian's shoulder and saw Obi-wan, "Now I have to admit. That boy behind you does appear a lot like your master."

Maul shuddered, "He's not my master."

"That's a shame, betraying us and not even becoming his. That's very unfortunate. Did he not want you?" Vader rested his head on the palm of his hand and lightly bit his pinky as he gave Maul a crooked grin. "Even after all you did for him?" 

"That's none of your business." Maul's shoulders tensed.

"Did you tell him what you did? How you enjoyed it? Or was it because he was disgusted by your infatuation with him?" 

Maul clenched his jaw. His red eyes began to dampen into a vibrant yellow. 

"You know Darth Sidious wanted you all to himself, but he allowed me to have the first go. He's a kind master. Was _he_ kind to you Maul? Surely, not as kind as my master. Obviously, _he_ has you looking for scraps on Coruscant while _he's_ living in the limelight." Vader crossed his legs.

"What do you want Vader?" Maul warned.

The Sith face stiffened, "You know what I want."

Maul's eyes returned to their natural color: molten red, "Fuck off."

Vader stood, he walked over to the barrier and in a low voice he said, "Where's the Chancellor?"

"You have the droid. Figure it out yourself." Maul snarled as he stepped closer to the barrier.

Vader scoffed, "Damn thing was nearly destroyed and you know it."

"That's a shame." The satisfaction on Maul's face was that of a child who'd gotten away with an awful deed.

"It is." Vader tilted his head and locked eyes with Obi-wan. "Don't worry I haven't forgotten about you, _dear one."_ His tone taunted a man who wasn't there. 

Maul stepped into the Sith's line of vision. "Don't fucking talk to him."

"I don't think you quite understand Maul." Vader cooed, "I can do whatever I want." 

The Sith turned from the cell and to the men watching them. "Leave us." The stormtroopers exited first then the red figures followed. Obi-wan's blood ran cold as the situation dawned on him. _We're alone with a Sith Lord._

Vader strolled over to the table where their belongings were. The small satchel caught his eye, Maul shifted uncomfortably, "I didn't know you were the sentimental type."

Vader flipped through the pictures, his stern face softened with each photo. He paused. Staring intently at one of them. "You're absolutely obsessed." He huffed out. "It's sickening."

"And you're not."

"Well, " Vader tucked the photos back into the satchel, "I'm in the healthy part of the spectrum of obsession. I unlike you I don't stalk. I hire people for that - like a normal person."

Maul scoffed, "Believe me, there is no healthy end of the spectrum with the Chancellor." 

" _Your_ Chancellor. He's not mine."

"Yes. That's right." Maul mumbled bitterly, "The Galactic Senate doesn't recognize our ambassadors." 

"Why should we. You're all traitors." Vader looked through Obi-wan's clothing, he stopped when he spotted the Padawan's lightsaber.

Obi-wan looked between the two men. Their conversation was more relaxed than he would hope for it to be. The Sith ignited the saber. The light blue blade rumbled in his hand. 

"Don't touch that!" Obi-wan raced to the cell's barrier, and pounded on it, Maul flinched at the sudden outburst.

Vader lifted a brow. He fastened the lightsaber on his waist, next to his own. 

"Maul. I'll only ask one more time." The Sith shot the Maul a pitiful look, "Where is the Chancellor?"

The Dathomirian leaned forward, he pointed an accusatory finger at Vader, "Fuck you."

Vader exhaled loudly, "You disappoint me, Maul." 

With that, Vader walked toward the monitor and pressed something. The barrier holding Maul and Obi-wan in evaporated into thin air. Maul stepped out first. 

Maul took a defensive stance as he slowly approached Vader. _He's an idiot._ Obi-wan ran up to the Dathomirian and tackled him to the ground.

"What are you doing? He's armed!" Maul stumbled his way to the ground. The alien, in a fit of rage, shoved the Padawan off.

"You should listen to him." Vader strolled over to the two lying in the ground. He extends his left hand and Obi-wan's body began to levitate. Using the Force, Vader joisted him by the waist, Obi-wan thrashed around before his body stiffened. 

"Let go of me!" 

Maul sprang to his feet and lunged at the Sith, an ill-fated action. Before he could land a punch, Vader booted the Dathomirian's stomach - knocking the air out of him. 

Maul groveled on the floor. "Don't hurt him!" He coughed up. His eyes now golden with anger. He glared up at the Sith. Clutching onto the aching area, "Please!"

Vader scoffed, the expression on Maul's face stiffened. The Dathomirian stared at the man towering over him with pleading eyes and a glossy coat beginning to develop, he gasps for breath. "No! Please don't!"

The Sith rolled his eyes, "We'll see." 

"No. You can't, he's just a boy!"

"Looks plenty grown to me." Vader looked at Obi-wan with a predatory glare, a chill ran down the Padawan's back.

"Don't you dare touch him!" Maul snarled.

"Why make this much of a fuss over _him_? He's not even your precious Chancellor." 

Maul shook his head, tears began to roll down his face, "Please don't hurt him."

Irritated, Vader marched out of the room with Obi-wan floating beside him. The two red figures gave the Sith knowing nods before they ran back in the room.

They received glances from stormtroopers, as well as some officers. But they all quickly adverted their eyes when Vader looked at them. 

Obi-wan's attempts to squirm out of the Force grip are stopped when he heard the soft whistle of a door opening. Without warning, Vader threw him inside. The Padawan landed awkwardly on his elbow - a gentle pop came from the impact.

Vader steps in, the door closes behind him. "Who sent you." 

The room is small, far too small, the Sith stands mere feet away from Obi-wan. He stumbles back, lifting himself up onto the bench attached to the wall. "I wasn't sent by-"

The Sith gently lifts his hand, Obi-wan pauses. "I don't doubt that the Rebellion didn't send you." He slowly approached Obi-wan. 

Instinctively, the Padawan scooted back until he hit the wall, Vader stopped when his shins met the bench. "Their Chancellor doesn't have the heart to scheme this." 

Obi-wan's face twisted into confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Vader reached out to yank his hair - pulling him uncomfortably close to the Sith. "And I doubt that he's capable of loving someone to the point of intimacy."

Vader admired the Padawan's features. For a brief moment, his eyes soften, his angered face relaxes as he stares into Obi-wan's eyes. 

Obi-wan knows better than to speak back to the man, his head still aches from their fight the night before, he can't risk passing out again much less getting killed for questioning, but-

His body is flooded with familiarity, he feels the surge of the Force run through him, but the sensation is artificial. Filtered out by the Sith. The Padawan's breath hitches when a wave of overwhelming emotions knock his psyche over. Conflicted by the Sith's presence in his mind, he attempts to fight off the intrusion, but lacks the fortitude.

Vader closes his eyes, Obi-wan's lashes feel heavy. He wants to keep glaring at the man, but his body betrays him. With closed eyes, he concentrates on the artificial surge flowing through him.

He feels pain unlike any other: Not one of the flesh but of the heart, a deep betrayal - as if someone tore his heart out. An unconditional love running so deep his heart bleeds for a glance, a stare, an acknowledging look, a praiseful remark, something that would complete his world. 

Obi-wan leans in - pressing his forehead against the Sith's.

There's an anger, an uncontrollable rage hidden beneath the heartbreak. Obi-wan reaches out through the muddled connection. His fingertips were met with the soft cheeks of a crying boy. His dirty blonde hair hooding his bright blue eyes. Obi-wan kneels down and cradles the boy in his arms. The boy melts into the touch. The Force becomes a blur around them, their surrounding shift from a blackened abyss to a farm. Fire burns a hutt in the distance, a woman's corpse lays in front of the hutt's doorway. The grip around Obi-wan tightens. He looks down, a young man is holding him, weeping. His features were similar to the boy's.

Obi-wan hugs the man back. There's an unexpected tenderness about him. He feels the man's warmth engulf him. The Force becomes a blur once more, their surroundings merge into a lava written landscape. The young man nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Obi-wan feels tears trickle down his neck. _There's something familiar about him_ ... _Something_ Obi-wan can't fully grasp, but it's there none less.

"What are you doing?" Obi-wan's eyes flutter open. 

Without realizing Vader had crawled into Obi-wan's arms. The Sith, in shock, quickly shoves Obi-wan off. He jumps to his feet, conflicted by his body's innate response. 

With a stunned look on his face, he gawks at the Padawan, his forehead creases and with an inexplicable rush of happiness the Force gently hums around them, "You're him."

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imma make a promise: imma start pumping out more chapter! i am speed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader is sad, and Obi-wan is still confused. Also introducing Ben!

How could this have happened? Obi-wan paced along his quarters. Quarters that were given to him by a Sith Lord of all people. _How on Coruscant's moons did this happen?_ He glanced around the room. A simple bed, nightstand, settee, table, chairs, closet and a fresher were all provided by that man child! 

Obi-wan's head spun at the memory of earnestly embracing the man - comforting him. _Him_! A Sith Lord! He angrily paced back and forth - praying he could stomp the memory away. How had this all happened? He was with Qui-Gon not too long ago. They were sent by the Council to negotiate with the planet's ambassador about-

"I heard you haven't been eating." Obi-wan darted his head toward the entrance, the door silently slid close behind Vader as he gingerly stood holding a plate of food in one hand and a drink in the other.

"With good reason too." The Padawan arched a credulous brow. He eyed the plate in the Sith's hand. "I'm not eating that."

"Only Sith deal in absolutes," He mimicked Obi-wan's thick Coruscantee accent with ease and even dared to sound more pretentious than the Padawan.

Obi-wan did nothing but scowl at the absurd idea, "That's ridiculous. Everyone at some point deals in--. No. I won't. No." 

Vader credulously sneered, "I brought you food and tea." He set the plate and cup down on the small table, next to two strategically placed chairs that led to a foul suspicion which involved one Vader tormenting him for the foreseeable future. The Sith took a seat. "Now eat." 

The Padawan's gaze darkened. He cautiously approached the chair and leaned over it and with a hardened tone he postulated, "No." 

Vader hummed in response. He tapped his fingers on the durasteel table, "Then how do you suppose I feed you?" 

The Sith stood. Suddenly, Obi-wan found himself cornered, back against the wall with Vader pressed firmly against him. "I could." His hand cruelly grazed Obi-wan's cheek and found its way to his throat, "Force it down your throat or," Vader smirked, "I could stick a tube past those pretty lips." He forcefully cupped Obi-wan's chin, a meek whimper escaped the Padawan's lips from the sudden pressure on his cheeks, and with a haul Vader sat him on the chair, "Now eat."

Obi-wan swallowed a dry lump in his throat. It had been a while since he had eaten something. Vader took a seat in front of him - diligently watching the Padawan. Obi-wan stared at the plate in front of him.

_I like curry._

"Lord Vader." 

The Sith held a dead-pan expression almost as if he was reprimanding himself for not opting to forcefully feed Obi-wan, his face became slightly more readable when he released an exasperated breath. 

"I'd feel more comfortable if you took the first bite." Obi-wan prudishly slid the plate back to Vader. 

"No, thank you." Vader slid the plate back to Obi-wan, "I'm alright."

"Why? Do Sith not eat, surely you _must_ be hungry." Obi-wan faked concern as he urgently shoved the plate back

A wryly grin appeared on Vader's face, "We Sith do eat. In fact, " Vader directed the plate back to Obi-wan for the final time, "We especially love devouring young naive Padawans."

Obi-wan's face ran pale.

Vader let out a boisterous laugh, "I'm joking." He placed a hand on his chest - trying to calm his amusement and when he did, Vader's gleeful tone died down into a threatening growl. "But if you don't eat. I will force it down your throat."

More scared than anything, Obi-wan managed to wolf down the first bite then another and another. And to his surprise, the food was good, really good - unexpectedly good.

His attention veered off from the well-seasoned curry to the creepy gawking Sith in front of him. The man looked oddly pleased for some inexplicable reason. 

Blue judgmental eyes narrowed, Vader - a bit uneased by Obi-wan's straightforward glare, shifted his gaze from the teen to his living area. To the Sith's credit, the quarters he had given Obi-wan were comfy, to say the least. It was a hassle to remember every petty tick his former master had just to make Obi-wan feel welcomed - well, as welcomed as he could feel being a prisoner and all.

While Obi-wan continued to absent-mindedly eat - what he hoped wasn't a poisoned meal, Vader found himself lost in thought. Daydreaming of his master's loving face, smug tone, bright blue eyes, perky-- 

"Done." Obi-wan slammed the bowl on the table. which caused the Sith to flinch. Having been torn away from his fantasy, Vader darted his head toward the Padawan's snobbish face.

_I just made a Sith lord flinch._

Vader - fighting the urge to bash his brains into the nearest wall for daydreaming about a man he hadn't seen in person, a person who he swore he hated but apparently not enough to actually go through with the whole hating process, a process which entailed that he did in fact grow to hate them ( _Oh Force),_ composed himself enough to demand: "Get ready." 

Obi-wan tensed up. "For?" He licked the spoon. Still very hungry, but he won't admit that he still had pride.

"Training." 

"What?"

"I can't have you rotting away in here now can I?" Vader crossed his arms.

"I-- Why?" 

"I don't like repeating myself." 

Obi-wan set down his spoon parallel to the bowl. One of his former master's many petty ticks that involved _setting things down in the most satisfying way as to not impede on the aesthetic symmetries._ Even as a teenager, Obi-wan's perfectionistic tendencies still subconsciously ruled his every move. He doesn't know if he misses being yelled or if he's really grown to hate the man he once called master so much that he memorized every stupid tick to just mess with him when Vader captures him.

Obi-wan's brows furrowed as he reached for the tea Vader had brought him. He took a sip. _He's daydreaming again._ Oh. No. The tea _is also surprisingly good_ . He closed his eyes for a moment to savor the taste. _This must be from some market on the outskirts of-_ When he opened his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a satisfied Vader staring contently at him.

| | | 

It'd only been a couple of days since Obi-wan had been taken prisoner to the Sith but in spite of his capture, Vader had been nothing but uncharacteristically kind to him - to the best of that extent that is. Vader fed him, clothed him, and now apparently trained him.

The Sith struck Obi-wan across the face - disorienting the boy before he delivered a swift kick to Obi-wan's legs and the Padawan dropped to the ground. His head bounced off the pavement, Obi-wan closed his eyes for a moment to calm the aching throb from the impact. 

"You're slow." Vader circled around him, in the same vain a predator does a wounded animal, before he extended a crude hand. The Padawan winced as he sat upright, he grabbed the Sith's forearm and lifted himself up.

"You're too violent." Obi-wan pointed out- wincing as the pain still lingered.

"Your form is sloppy. You leave yourself unguarded and vulnerable. You favor using your left hand to punch while your right is sorely misused for guarding." Vader took a stance.

Obi-wan's lips thinned. Angered by the Sith's constructive criticism, he lunged forward. This time he tried using both his hands, in a messy form Qui-Gon would have grimaced at. He punched - or at least tried to land a punch on Vader's torso. The Sith was quick, way too quick - without realizing it he pinned Obi-wan to the ground.

Obi-wan tried to squirm his way out, but Vader dug his knee in the small of his back. The Padawan groaned, "Get off me." 

The Sith licked his lips in contentment, before he removed his knee and replaced it with his butt. The impact knocked some air out of Obi-wan, but he didn't fight the man off. He's far too tired and beaten to protest and maybe he doesn't really mind. Really, the Sith has a surprisingly nice butt. Squishy, but firm. Like a good butt should be! _OH NO._ Obi-wan quickly shot that thought down. 

He laid there defeated, "Can you please get off of me?" 

Begrudgingly, Obi-wan pressed his cheek against the cool pavement below. He closed his eyes. _Why is he doing this? Why is a Sith training me? A Jedi padawan! Why is he kind? Why? Why? Why?_

"You're shielding is awful." Vader grimaced. 

_Right._ Obi-wan turned to look at him. The Sith was drenched in sweat. His curly brown hair was done up in a messy bun, loose strands of hair fell out onto his face, his cheeks reddened from sparring. Obi-wan's eyes traveled down. His chest soaked with sweat - making his thin white shirt practically see-through. 

Obi-wan gulped. 

_Why does he have to be attractive?_ He pounded a fist into the ground.

"Thank you." Vader crooned out.

Immediately, Obi-wan's head shot up and he darted his head to look at the Sith on him. He didn't know whether it was the training's frustration or the embarrassment that made his face burn but whatever it was, it made the Sith smile from ear to ear.

| | | 

He'd never been taught much about the Sith. Qui-Gon had only briefly mentioned them in very tasteless profanities he'd murmur whenever he spilled caf on himself or his stump his toe into furniture - mild inconveniences really, they didn't warrant the Sith's damnation.

So hearing Vader talk about their Code, what they wanted, everything from their history to the inconsistencies inside their Order. Whenever Vader spoke of the Order he's eyes lit up with an indescribable awe Obi-wan could only really capture with one simple word.

Obi-wan leaned in closer. Vader made no attempt to distance himself from the Padawan, instead, he let himself sway into the touch. Their shoulders brushed past one another as Obi-wan reached out to point at something in the hologram, "What does that mean."

Vader hummed. The Padawan had, of course, not been taught the Sith's ancient language, with good reason too, if he only knew how corrupt the Order was he'd leave. "Peace is a lie. There is only Passion."

Obi-wan scrunched up his nose, disapproving of the text, "That's absurd. Peace is not a lie. The Jedi--"

Vader raised a thoughtful hand, the Padawan quickly shut his mouth and eagerly awaited the Sith's response. "Obi-wan. Peace is a construct. It would not exist if it weren't for society. We can not chase that which is arbitrary."

"But Jedi maintain--"

"Peace. Yes, but at what cost?" 

Obi-wan's forehead creased.

"The Jedi seek external peace. One can not derive true satisfaction and fulfillment from outside forces. Concepts like fulfillment are foreign to the Jedi because they seek to protect the wellbeing of others and not themselves. True satisfaction and fulfilment can only come from within. They sacrifice that which is most important in the process of chasing a lie."

"But." The Force around them brightened, Obi-wan held his chin - gently stroking the skin. He concentrated on what Vader had said. "That's selfish."

"Asking to give up your individuality is selfish." 

"But the Jedi save people. It's for the greater good"

Vader smiled at the Padawan's phrasing: 'The Jedi' not 'We the Jedi'. Over the past weeks, Obi-wan slowly began to separate himself from the Code. This wasn't the first time he referred the Jedi separate from himself. No, the first time it felt wrong, but now something about learning about the Sith made him inherently distrustful about associating his doctrine.

"The Jedi do not know what balance is. You can have both Peace within and out." Vader hummed as he leaned over.

"But it says 'Peace is a lie."' 

"Not everything that's written is applicable."

"But that leads to different sects of the same Code."

"And with it we, the Sith, aren't tied down by greed. We forge our own path. No Council. We decide what the Code means to us, we retain everything that is ours. Emotions and all." 

Vader's smile widened.

| | | 

"Concentrate." Vader demanded. The Sith sat directly in front of Obi-wan with his legs cross, and eyes closed - focusing on the Force around them. "Your shielding won't get any better if you do nothing but douttle."

"I'm trying!" The Padawan's voice cracked with frustration. He tried to fortify his thoughts, but somehow Vader managed to poke holes through the barricade. 

Much like when Vader first invited himself inside his mind, Obi-wan felt the Sith's emotions, but this time they were calmer, almost tamed. Nothing like how they were a month prior to their meditative training.

Obi-wan pinpointed where his weaknesses were and quickly mended them. "Don't keep your emotions in, release them into the Force. It'll help you."

Reluctantly, Obi-wan expelled his pent up anger into the Force. He felt Vader smile, "Good. Now try again."

So, he did. He built up walls around himself - desperately trying to block out the Sith. He felt Vader's presence reach inside.

"It's better."

"Well, it's not good enough." Obi-wan bitterly mumbled. 

"It's better than it was before." Vader stood, "You just need to harness your emotions more. There is power in releasing them. All you have to do is let go and then you'll see improvement." The Sith extended a hand.

His technique had gotten better, and not just shielding, his combat skills too. Vader had practically beatened him into being a better fighter. He sighed, "Yes, Master." 

_Oh no._

Obi-wan's face flushed red. It was a mistake. It just slipped out. He didn't really mean it. It's only because the Sith was training like Qui-Gon usually did. Oh no! What would Qui-Gon say? He just called a Sith Lord master. _For Force's sake._

He slowly raised his head. Obi-wan's panic was oddly eased by the grim smile on Vader's lips. "Come on." The Sith cooed and with a hint of sadness in voice he said, "Get up. I'm not gonna train myself."

| | | 

His quarter's ceiling was a light grey, thin lines formed from where metal was molten together. Obi-wan gazed up - feeling the Force run through him. He allowed it to seep into his veins as he closed his eyes and drifted into a meditative state. 

In the past, he would have set up a mat on the floor, crossed his legs and mediated but something was different. Now, he's settled comfortably on his bed. Lying down, one arm under his head as he tip-toes the line between sleep and mediation.

The Force soothes him in a way he's never quite experienced before. He's taken away through a twirl wind of emotion. Welcoming and dismissing them all in and out the Force. 

Then he feels Vader. His signature is as prominent as he is in person. Strong, unyielding and full of conviction. There's something calming about the fiery presence that makes him feel safe.

He feels the Sith's signature coming closer. A giddy feeling creeps in his stomach, a feeling closely akin to that nauseous glee he felt back in the temple when he tried approaching another Padawan he'd secretly admired.

Quickly, Obi-wan fumbled to his feet - eagerly waiting for the Sith's arrival. He childishly galloped his way to the door and stood readily in front of it.

The doors gently slid open and revealed Vader. The Sith's features soften when he saw the Padawan obediently waiting for him. "Well. Let's go." 

And with that Vader turned his heel and Obi-wan followed. 

As they walked, he noticed Vader giving him side glances. The Sith stopped his stride. 

"What's wrong?"

Vader quirked his lips. He reached out and stroked Obi-wan's hair. "It's gotten longer. Do you want to cut it?"

His hair had been falling into his face an awful amount of times when they were sparring - it blocked his view, and it did scratch the back of his ear, so, "Yes, I'd love that."

Vader guided him back into his quarters, where Obi-wan was promptly led into his fresher. Vader brought in a chair from the dining, the Padawan sat. 

The Sith began by lightly combing his hair. The sensation eased Obi-wan - no longer feeling giddy, the Padawan melted into Vader's touch.

The man smiled as Obi-wan practically purred at his touches. He wrapped his hand around the Padawan braid. "Obi-wan." He grabbed the scissors from the counter. Vader locked eyes with _his soon to be apprentice_ through the mirror, he held up the braid and scissors. "May I?"

Obi-wan paused for a moment admiring the braid for the last time."Go ahead."

With one clean cut, the braid came clean off.

| | | 

Things, for the most part, have been going great. Vader paraded around the ship happily barking out commands as per usual, but there was something inherently off about the way he pranced around the ship.

"Have you gotten anything from Maul?" Sidious sounded more sickly than usual. The hologram flickered in his hand.

"Not yet." 

"What about the droid." 

"I haven't had the time." 

Sidious was motionless for a second, then mocked: " _Haven't had the time_?" 

"Yes," Vader confessed.

"Doing what?!" 

"Master, the Rebellion's set up multiple camps throughout the Galaxy, I've been--"

"Silence!"

If things hadn't been going well, perhaps, in another life, Vader would have argued back, but right now at this moment, he could care less about satisfying some old fart.

"You will bring Maul to me!" He wailed. Then murmured something along the line of _unless-boy-I-have-to-do-everything-myself._

In another lifecycle, Vader would have definitely argued back, but not in this one. _No not today_. Things were going just fine. In fact, one might say better than just fine. One might say things we're going perfectly. 

After weeks of training Obi-wan, the teenager had finally started to see him as his master. A smile escaped his lips.

"What are you smiling about!!" Sidious bitched even louder than before. 

He stood there and begrudgingly listened to the lecture Sidious's anger spiraled into. Quite frankly, he didn't care for it, he was there in spirit but not in mind. 

Subconsciously, Vader reached out and nuzzled his soon to be apprentice through their bond. Well, not quite bond yet, more of a pseudo-bond. Obi-wan was still tip-toeing around their relationship paralleling that of a teacher and student, but he still sent back a wary wave of acknowledgment. 

"Vader! Vader!! Vader!!! Are you listening to me!?" 

"Yeah. Yeah." 

After a very un-insightful lecture about how grateful he should be to Sidious for practically saving him, Vader needed to let off some steam and what better way to do that than by visiting his second favorite prisoner. 

The room was simply lit, with the only source of the light being the fluorescent window hanging above where Maul floated in the air. The Dathomirian's body was mangled, blood wandered into the air from his newly wounded skin. His limbs were stretched out by the magnetic pull of the brackets and anklets on him, preventing any unnecessary movements. With heavily bruised eyes focusing on the figure standing in front of him, he croaked, "Vader." His voice had that feeble similarity to Sidious's due to the lack of water.

Vader admired the sight for a moment, "Hello. Maul." 

The Dathomirian's eyes involuntarily closed, his head bobbed slightly - trembling before it collapsed into his chest, breaking eye contact with Vader. The sight was truly magnificent. 

"What do you want?" Maul wheezed.

The Sith nonchalantly shrugged, but his prisoner, of course, couldn't see it. He grimaced upon the realization that he had to verbalize his intent. "I just wanted to see." 

Maul scoffed. "I'm flattered."

Weeks of torture and the Dathomirian's dry sarcasm still remained. _Impressive._

"Sidious wants you." 

"About fucking time." 

Vader arched an inquisitive brow, "And here I thought we bonded." He reached out and pulled Maul by the horn till he could see the Dathomirian's bloodshot eyes. "I won't have you running your mouth off about my _little pet_." 

Maul cackled, "Is that your calling him?"

Vader let him go. The Dathomirian truly didn't know a thing about the Rebellion. No plans. No locations. No information about the Chancellor. Nothing. He scanned Maul's beaten state. _He's just a pawn._

"Is h' a'gh?" He mumbled something incoherent. 

"Speak up."

"Is he alright?" Maul cleared his throat.

"Yes. He's fine."

"Is he happy?" 

The Sith reached out through their pseudo bond. _He's asleep_. "Yes." Vader concluded.

"Anakin." 

Vader's heart sank. He hadn't heard that name in years. 

"Please don't hurt him."

| | | 

Yavin's gentle breeze had seemingly found itself calming him more than it ever did in the past. Of the few times that he did visit the green planet, he never did have the time to enjoy it's serene forests view. Qui-Gon allowed the fresh air to enter his lungs. He sat on the ledge of the balcony of an old Yavin temple - overseeing the lush jungle. 

At least the planet was similar to his own universe's. Qui-Gon, upon arrival into this strange alternate reality, was taken by the Rebellion. He wandered the streets of Coruscant till he was held at gunpoint and outnumbered. He was then immediately taken to Yavin to meet the Chancellor. 

"Here." 

He turned, a lean man stood offering him a mug while holding his own in his other hand. Qui-Gon gave the man an symphatic smile before he took it.

The man sat next to him with his knees tucked into his chests, he faced the trees - admiring their beauty. He was frail. Qui-Gon eyed the man. Faint glimpses of Auburn hair hid behind light silver strands, dark circles prominently rested under his eyes, his once stern face from his youth softened into delicate outlines of past smiles and grimaces. Highs and lows. 

Qui-Gon took a sip before he continued to admire the man. _Had he always been this small_? Of course, Obi-wan was only 16 years old and still hadn't yet fully developed but as of right now. The man before him and the memory of his Padawan conflicted with one another. His Padawan was strong, sturdy but the man in front of him was beaten and fragile. He couldn't help but draw comparisons.

"Ben." Qui-Gon hesitantly cleared his throat. 

The smaller man turned, the Yavin's sunset painted him with an elegant orange glow and for a moment, Qui-Gon saw his bright-eyed Padawan within the broken man.

"Yes, Master." He sounded exhausted. Qui-Gon's heart couldn't help but ache for the man. Without thinking he scooted closer to Ben and pulled him into a loving embrace.

Attachments are forbidden. He knew this, and so did Ben but Qui-Gon, regardless of whatever version of Obi-wan, couldn't help but console him. This man. Ben leaned against his shoulder. This man was Obi-wan just not as he knew him.

"Papa!" 

This wasn't his Obi-wan. Ben squirmed out of the hug and lowered himself from the ledge, "What's wrong Luke?" He scooped up the young boy into his arms. "Why are you crying?"

The young boy melted into his embrace and sobbed "Leia hit me." 

"Hit her back." Ben spun the boy around, successfully distracting him from crying. Luke tightly held onto his father's shoulders as he giggled. 

A bit disoriented by the spinning, Ben stumbled onto the nearest couch, "Where is she?" He demanded, in the best impression of a general's voice.

"In the lounge!" The boy triumphantly declared before he leaped off Ben's lap and charged to presumably hit his sisters. 

Qui-Gon couldn't help but smile. Ben, unlike Obi-wan, was free. Free of the code. More human than he or any Jedi could ever be. 

Ben massaged the bridge of his nose before he locked eyes with his former master, "I'm sorry."

"There is no need for you to apologize." Qui-Gon got off the ledge and joined him on the couch, "Your parenting skills aren't something to be ashamed of."

Ben chuckled, "That's not what I meant."

In a somber tone, Qui-Gon whispered his reply, "I know."

"I'm so tired. Master, I've tried. I _am_ trying, but nothing I do works." Ben retracted back into Qui-Gon's embrace. 

"It's alright, Obi-wan. It's alright." 

Ben. Chancellor of the Rebellion. The man who single-handedly united planets against the Empire; a withering workaholic who's sole mission will be his inevitable demise. A fool's errand.

Qui-Gon knew this and yet he couldn't dare utter it. Not when he felt Ben's pain bleed off into the Force. Not when the man's face lit up when he talked about Anakin. Not when he told Qui-Gon this is why he was burning himself out with needless politics. 

"You know." Ben began, "He always wanted a family." 

An irritable rage stirred in Qui-Gon's stomach, He'd never quite let the anger take a hold of him before but whenever Ben spoke of Anakin. His blood boiled. How can Ben love a man who's hurt him this much? How can anyone hurt Ben? 

Ben isn't Obi-wan. He knew this. He shouldn't love a man he just met weeks ago, regardless of him being a version of his Padawan. He shouldn't but he does. And when a wounded Obi-wan cries on his shoulder. Confines in him. Trusts him and opens up.

Well then, what else is he to do then hate the man who hurt Ben?

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im trying to give out more background in a convincing way so im introducing Qui-Gon's prospective much earlier than I planned!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! im slowly pushing the plot forward!

There's something almost tragic about the way Ben walked: head held high, long meaningful strides; he carried with him the fate of Galaxy, and Qui-Gon could see that pressure whipping him into silent submission. 

He would occasionally lose his balance - needing to find something to hold onto, he took deep breaths to recompose himself then continued - acting as if nothing happened. It wasn't until recently that Qui-Gon saw him struggling while preparing dinner. A simple walk from the lounge to the kitchen defeated him - he'd, of course, never do it in front of anyone. Force forbid someone saw the Chancellor of the Rebellion groveling from malnourishment the lack of sleep

It hurt. Seeing Ben like this. An intrinsic need, that Qui-Gon could only describe as zeal, sprang within him - trapping the Jedi Knight in the mindless pursuit of Ben's happiness. So, it began with small gestures. Tiny things, of course. Cooking - although very bad at it Qui-Gon still tried, anything to ease the weight off Ben's shoulder, to see him smile. He watched the Chancellor's children. Luke and Leia, mischievous devils, hiding under adorable pouts and giggles. 

Then it escalated, a bit too far for Qui-Gon's comfort level, but he no less abided: Ben was firmly tucked under his arm, his head leaning against Qui-Gon's shoulder. With a warm blanket over them, Ben had convinced him to sit down and watch a Holofilm, but he knew better than to actually expect the Chancellor to sit down and watch it with him, instead, Ben was cuddled next to him, sound asleep. 

He shouldn't do this. Qui-Gon gulped before he reached out to brush Auburn bangs out of Ben's face, he slowly tucked the loose strands of hair behind the Chancellor's ear as he absorbed his drowsy look.

A smile came onto Qui-Gon's face. "Rest, love." He leaned and placed a chaste kiss on Ben's forehead. He shouldn't indulge these feelings, but…

| | | 

Obi-wan stood in the middle of the training room, flabbergasted and afraid and oddly content. He looked down at the lightsaber in his grasp. The bright blue plasma hummed in his hand. With a newly found conviction, he lunged forward. Vader's crimson clashes with his blue, the Sith withheld his strength as he blocked the Padawan's attacks. 

Dancing between the line of aggression and serenity, Obi-wan found himself enthralled by their sparring. Tiptoeing the bridge between the Light and Dark - using both sides to strengthen his blows, it gave himself leeway into the clouded gray area. Something Qui-Gon would most certainly disagree with, but he continued nonetheless. 

When he momentarily closed his eyes to blink, he saw it. Enveloped by the Dark the Light crawling in, his heart is torn in two. A shiver ran down his spine. He felt it: the blinding need to reach out and grab anything that resembled stability. 

And there, in that landscape of confusion and fear and thrill, he felt safe. Facing a Sith, being held against his will, having his freedom stripped away for the exchange of his mind, soul, and body. There. He felt safe.

Being hit by a Sith. Beaten, bloodied and shunned felt right. The abuse was not in vain, in fact, he got something out of it, the knowledge he acquired from Vader eased his conscious. He enjoyed it: feeling Vader's prowling around him, feeling his eyes on him, being scrutinized, humiliated. 

The way Vader looked at him, when he thought Obi-wan wasn't looking, was ravenous as if he craved someone. That look sent tingles down the Padawan's back. Having a Sith hungry eyes excited him in a way he couldn't really understand. But...that look wasn't for him

Vader parried his attack, the Sith spun around - no longer using his lightsaber, he palmed Obi-wan's pressure points. The Padawan lost his footing, he toppled over to the ground and with a begrudging hiss, his body obeyed him once more and he sprang to life. He initiated an attack.

There was something elegant about the Sith. Something, one thing one might confuse with deep sorrow or hatred at first glance. It was something so deeply embedded into him that to strip him of it was to destroy Darth Vader.

Obi-wan blocked Vader's attack. 

Vader held the world in his hand, yet he was just like him. Trapped, but his bondage ran deeper than Obi-wan's, fueled by an insatiable lust for power? No, not power that was too simple, and one thing that Obi-wan had come to know about the Sith was that he was not a simple man. Perhaps hatred? But that seemed unlikely. A tornado of emotions chimed inside him and Obi-wan thrived on them. Soaking up every conflict he felt stung threw the Force. He wanted more from Vader. He wanted to feel more. More of his pain, more of his more of hatred, more his anger.

Out of curiosity, Obi-wan reached out to have _more_ and he entangled their Force Signatures and he felt.. _love_

Vader immediately booted his side and sent the Padawan flying. Obi-wan's lightsaber flung out of his hand as he rolled over from the impact. Obi-wan winced as his torso ached. 

Vader's eyes were wide with belief, he recomposed himself before he spoke, "That's enough for today."He picked up Obi-wan's weapon, "You've gotten better." He fastened the lightsaber to his belt.

"What was that?" Obi-wan wheezed as he stood. "When I looked inside your --"

"Nothing." The Sith quickly rebuffed his concerns, he pinched the bridge of his nose and in a much slower less frantic tone, he said, "It was nothing." There was a hint of grief in his voice, but Obi-wan didn't care. He was too confused by the turmoil in Vader's heart.

The Padawan gave him a knowing look before he straightened his back. Sore from the day's training Obi-wan stretched a bit and from his peripheral he could see Vader silently worshiping him.

| | | 

"Ben." Qui-Gon entered the study, he stood solemnly in front of the desk that was cluttered with papers and datapads. Ben perked his head up from the work.

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon's heart melted. Somehow whenever Ben called him 'master' his inside turned into mush, a fire snuggled in his chest unlike anything he's ever experienced - something so raw and uncontrollable blossomed as he stared into beautifully pained eyes.

"I wish to speak to you." 

"About?" Ben cocked his head.

"You spoke of a man." Qui-Gon paused and analyzed Ben's softened gaze, and he casually brought up the man's name, "Anakin." 

Ben smiled at the memory. "What about Anakin?" 

"Why do you put yourself through all of this for someone so ungrateful?" 

Ben stiffened. His relaxed face hardened into an unreadable expression, with caution he spoke, "Because I love him."

He stood there. Silent, his heart sunk at the information. 

In the past, Ben would have wavered - he would have denied himself the right to feel anything but a sense of responsibility for Anakin, but now he's certain of his motivations and desires. 

These past 10 years as Chancellor allowed him to recognize who he is and what his emotions meant. He was more in touch with himself enough to know that he can't lie about his feelings - after all, being Chancellor meant being able to build treaties based on honesty and trust, and how can he fulfill that requirement if he doesn't uphold those values in his personal life? 

Qui-Gon was taken aback. Ben's face was stern, his tone determined, "Will that be all?" He shuffled through a datapad. His eyes darted from left to right, scanning the contents of the files - ignoring the flabbergasted expression on Qui-Gon's face

| | | 

There was a small hatch that delivered food and water via a miniature elevator, Obi-wan leaned against the hollow surface, he knocked on the thin durasteel. The knock echoed through the chamber. He nobbed then stepped back. He used the Force and twisted the compartment and a piercing alarm when off.

From the exterior of his living quarters, two soldiers rushed to the door. They looked at one another before one of them inputted the code and the door whistled open as air seeped into the room. The stormtroopers scrambled in with their blaster up.

Obi-wan waved his hand and promptly stated, "You will take me where the rebel prisoner is being held."

"I will take you where the prisoner is being held." They two said in unison.

The stormtroopers led him through the ship. The Padawan gained some apprehensive stares as he walked through a maze of corridors. With every turn more and more people began to follow him, attentively starting at Obi-wan. Their stares were judgemental. Unwanted, every single of them, their prying eyes mirrored that of Vader's but unlike the Sith, Obi-wan felt fearful. A shiver crawled up his neck.

They arrived at a large durasteel door, Obi-wan's hair stood on end. He felt the cold gaze of strangers on him, "You will open this door."

The stormtrooper repeated his command.

"Under whose authority?" Obi-wan flinched, he slowly turned and was met with an unforgiving glare. An elderly man stood proudly, his arms behind his back, his head held high, and his face stern with curiosity. 

Obi-wan choked up the words, "Vader's authority." He straightened his back. Trying his best to mimic confidence, he elaborated, "He wishes to have the prisoner moved to the transport hanger."

The older man lifted a brow. He indulged Obi-wan, "The prisoner has already been moved." 

Scared Obi-wan waved his hand in front of the man, "You will leave."

Angered, he caught Obi-wan's hand's mid-wave. He narrowed his eyes and leaned into the boy. His hollow cheeks and bristled appearance unnerved the padawan.

"Who are you?" 

_He's not weak-minded!_ Quickly, Obi-wan ripped the man's fingers from his wrist and distanced himself, he darted his head to the stormtrooper, "You still protect me." He waved and as an afterthought, he added, "Without killing anyone!"

| | | 

"Vader!" He could recognize that shrill voice anywhere. The Sith reluctantly turned around. He was met with a disheveled Wilhuff. The Grand Moff angrily marched toward him. His clothes stained with blood. "What in Sith's Hell is a Jedi doing aboard my Star Destroyer!' He practically spat in Vader's face.

_Odd phrasing._ Vader stood calmly as Wilhuff paced around him, "I already had Maul sent to--"

"Don't pretend you don't know." He hauled. His mannerisms were calm. Not a drop of irritation could be detected, but somehow Vader knew the man was beyond infuriated. "There was a brat running around my ship." 

Vader's heart sunk. Wilhuff violently turned his head from the Sith and rested a hand on his head, "I had to kill my own men to get to him." He exhaled and repeated, "Just to get to him." 

"Is he alright?!" Vader inched forward. 

Wilhuff eyed him from head to toe. Appalled about where Vader's concerns laid, he narrowed his gaze and stated, "I didn't kill him if that's what you're asking me."

Worried, Vader hissed, "Where is he?" His voice was low. Golden eyes burned with an emotion Wilhuff could only describe as attachment. The Sith's jaw clenched as his mind raced to the most gruesome of scenarios.

Reluctantly, Vader was able to frighten Wilhuff on where Obi-wan was being held. He tried reaching out to feel the Padawan's presence, but there was nothing.

Wilhuff paced alongside him, lightly jogging through the halls of the Star Destroyer till they reached the room where Maul was once held. Vader's chest sunk, he turned back and saught the Grand Moff's confirmation. Wilhuff slowly nodded.

The room was as he left it, but the only difference was instead of Maul it was Obi-wan. Chained by his wrists and ankles. Rivulets of blood trickled upward and into the air as his limp body floated, his breath ragged from the broken nose. Vader's eyes scanned his body. On Obi-wan's side laid a large crimson stain gradually soaking his white tabard.

Vader's chest heaved. Quickly, the Sith freed Obi-wan from the confinement and cradled the boy in his arms. Assessing the damage.

He ran a soothing hand down Obi-wan's cheek. The Padawan was unconscious. He looked at the bloodied fabric. _He's lost too much blood._

Blissfully unaware that Wilhuff was in the room, Vader leaned down and pressed his forehead against Obi-wan, he murmured, "Don't worry I got you." He then tucked his cybernetic arm behind the Padawan's knees and his other arm under his torso. He gently lifted Obi-wan's body as he stood.

"Vader." 

The Sith flinched.

Wilhuff stood in front of the exit. Heels firmly pressed together, the Grand Moff blocked him in and in a tone Vader couldn't recognize he demanded, "Explain yourself. Now."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> daddy tarkins!!! am I right!!??
> 
> anybody?
> 
> ok....


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OML it took me so long to write this and it's literally nothing lol oh WHALE
> 
> im still trying to figure out a schedule and not just stay up till like 3 am writing lol someone give me redbull i need wings!
> 
> Come yell at me on Tumblr!  
> [ Here ](https://tyledraws.tumblr.com/)

Obi-wan woke with a fright. Drenched in sweat, his chest heaved, his nose burned and whistled as oxygen filled his lungs and his side ached a bone-chilling sting. Shuddering, he scrambled through his person- feeling his torso and limbs in a rush. His eyes struggled to blur into focus as he palmed his surroundings. 

Soft silk beneath his fingertip eased his spirit as he shifted on the plush mattress- feeling the texture, he cautiously reached into the Force for guidance, but there was none- he was left alone to fend for himself in blindness. Afraid, he scrunched up his nose- shockwaves of intolerable pain surge from his face to his shoulder. Discomfort lingered on his skin as he feathered the area. He felt his nose bent and mangled out of shape- paranoia ensued when he remembered his encounter with Wilhuff.

Fear wrecked his nerves- temporarily paralyzing Obi-wan. With heavy pants, his vision focused. He sat amidst a large bedroom, the moon’s rays seeping through the balcony door. The room was far too dark to make anything out but he recognized the warmth of the lights creeping underneath the doorway. The stars drew his attention, he gawked into the night looming over a lush forest. Fear melted into confusion. He was, at some point, on Vader’s ship... _right_?

Goosebumps pepper his skin in tidal waves. Uneasy and wounded, he attempted to move but his side cramped up at the subtle motion. He felt the irritation pull on his chest, heaving onto his skin a tenderness too vile to contain. Obi-wan groaned and laid back down, his hand firmly pressed on the injured area- applying much-needed pressure. Erratic breaths echo through the room, he lifted the hand on his side to survey the blood-stained palm. 

A cruel mixture of brown and red adorned it. Breathing through his mouth, he laid there defeated. Immobilized, he tried once more to seek comfort from the Force but still to no reply. With his vision now perfect he raised his head as far as agony allowed him to. 

The night is beautiful, but he doesn't care for it. His mind was too preoccupied with plight to worry about anything other than his new cell. Lavished although it may be, he recognized that there is no freedom to be had, and he was still under the Sith's control. 

Sickened by the thought, Obi-wan mustered up the strength to sit upright. Hissing and groaning as he did so. He sat in on the bed- clutching his side. Unaware of the attention he drew to himself, Obi-wan slurs a string of profanities in a foreign tongue as he darted his head around- looking for anything that might help him escape.

“How very rude.”

He narrowed his eyes- or at least tried to, the burning sensation of bruised skin being pulled stopped him. He was greeted by a golden plated droid. The droid flailed his arms hysterically as he approached the foot of the bed, “You best not hurt yourself. Or it will be me paying for it, and I just had new circuiting installed. It would be a shame for it all to go to waste!”

“And! The first thing I hear from your mouth and it’s curses. Why Master was wrong to help you, but he never listens to me. It’s a miracle I haven’t been sent off to _Force_ knows where!” The droid frantically paced, “I am not programmed for this!”

“I spoke in…” 

“In Shyriiwook.” The droid continued, “Wherever you pick up such horrid language is beyond me.” His pacing settled into a calm stride, he stood beside the bed watching Obi-wan struggle to breathe, he nodded then made his way across the room into what Obi-wan could only assume was the fresher.

“I may not be programmed for this, but I can try my best to help.” He shuffled back to set down a first aid kit on the bed, “Can you please move over so I may see the wound.”

Hesitant, Obi-wan scooted over- trying his best not to whimper as he did so. With his hand still plastered on his bleeding side, he started breaking out into a cold sweat- bitter drops streamed down to his chin, cooling his heated skin. “Where am I?”

“We are currently on Ossus.”

“The Outer Rim?!” 

“Yes. Now lift your shirt.” 

Wincing, Obi-wan tried to raise his arms above his head, “I, _um_ , I don’t I can.”

“Every well.” 

He made his way to the doors and halted at the doorway, he turned to the Padawan. With remorse thick on his accent he spoke- _hoped-_ it wasn’t true, “Are you really Obi-wan Kenobi?”

“The one and only.”

There was an almost tranquil quality to the metallic taste fresh on his tongue. The stain on his robes- not his robes, but probably Vader’s from the looks of it. Black with golden embroidering on it's sleeves and neck, he’d dare say it was almost nice- but Vader was anything but _nice_ . Although the garment was lovely, he loathed it for covering his wound- unable to see the blood, he patted his side to assess... _Oh, Force, that’s a lot of blood._

“Useless!” 

Obi-wan grimaced. _And there it was,_ he turned his head to the door in anticipation of the Sith, and as if on queue Vader stormed in with his all righteous cape flowing behind him. He can’t help but roll his eyes at that, _really_. Even though he’s mangled and beaten Vader had such a cartoonish way about him that it just demanded his irritation.

The Sith rushed to his bedside, “Are you alright?”

Obi-wan met the ill-conceived concern with a grimace, “I’m _great.”_

One thing that Vader had come to understand about Obi-wan was that he was very much like his Master, but _so_ _much_ _more_ irritating. His Master was a polished version- by far the best version, cringey jokes and all, but _this_ version was a bratty stuck up little son of a--

“Ouch.” Obi-wan held down his side and curled up- trying to limit the pain to one area. Vader’s annoyance faded into concern as he rubbed the Padawan’s back. 

“I need to look at the wound.” 

“As opposed to _smelling_ it?” 

Vader’s annoyance crept a hot red on his cheeks. If Obi-wan wasn’t injured he would pummel the sass right out of him but -unfortunately, _at the moment_ , Obi-wan was very much injured and by the _Force_ were the injuries worse than he ever imagined. The one-time Wilhuff does something right!

“Shirt. Now!” The Force lifted Obi-wan- moving him closer to Vader. Begrudgingly, the Sith sat on the bed and assessed the wound through the cloth- or tried to, the color black didn't really help. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

“Here’s a _bright_ idea. Turn on the lights.” _Force!_ how Vader missed those sappy jokes and the consequent sharp-tongued Master that would tell them.

"Threepio." Vader howled, "Lights!"

The droid scurried over and slapped a switch. Obi-wan winced as the fluorescent lights discombobulated him- burning his irises he tried to regain his vision by shaking his head, which, to no one’s surprise only made matters worse. His nose ached more than it ever did and now there seemed to permit sting in his eyes. _This can’t get any worse._

“Hey,” Vader tried his best to sound as sincere as possible but it was muddled and unpracticed which only made the end result sound phlegmish. Obi-wan opened his eyes to glare at the Sith but his hatred was stopped by the prominent purple bruise under Vader’s right eye. 

“Who did that?” Obi-wan's hatred grew into worry- his sympathic nature betrayed him and he didn’t really know how to explain it but he cared for the Sith, in his own way...

Vader looked confused for a moment before he caught onto what the Padawan was referring to. He lightly touched the bruise on his face and with a playful smirk he chuckled, “It’s his currency?”

“Currency?”

“Yes.” Vader gestured at the Padawan’s injury. Reluctantly Obi-wan allowed him to touch. The Sith palmed the area, “We’re gonna need new bandaging.” He glanced at the medical kit at his side.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I know.” The container came undone with a low pop, Vader turned from the medical supplies to Obi-wan. “Shirt.”

“I can’t lift my arms.”

A glint of excitement flickered in the Sith’s eyes, Vader gestured to Obi-wan’s robes- asking for permission to touch him. Obi-wan obliged. The Sith grinned as he grabbed the opposite side of the shirt and being mindful of the Padawan’s injury he tore the clothe straight down the middle in one swift motion. He choked back a snicker as he saw Obi-wan’s _more than_ offended look, “I always wanted to do that.” Vader admitted.

Appalled, Obi-wan covered his exposed skin. Vader squared his jaw in response to his reaction, “Move your arms I need to see.” 

After Vader cleaned and bandaged the wound, he promptly walked over to the closet and grabbed a black tunic. He glanced at it before deciding to look for another smaller one- he had to take into consideration that Obi-wan was much smaller than him and his clothes _probably_ wouldn't fit the Padawan. Then again, he had always been much bigger- a whole head taller, than his Master and they shared clothing and somehow Vader would always manage to fit. 

He tucked the thought away before he took the smallest shirt from the pile and strolled over to Obi-wan.

The now torn shirt Obi-wan wore was slack on his slender frame. A glint of irritation fluttered in his chest as he glared at Vader. 

He questioned if the Sith really cared for him. _He must,_ after all, he nursed him, for _Force_ knows how long he was unconscious and there was the whole training thing that Vader seemed to be obsessed with. Obi-wan turned to Threepio who was standing alarmingly still. The droid lowered his head when their gazes met- almost ashamed Threepio scampered into the hallway, leaving Obi-wan alone with the Sith.

Hostility stirred inside his stomach as Vader sat down on the bed. The Sith- having caught up to Obi-wan's bitterness, scowled as he tried to touch the Padawan.

Obi-wan, although in pain, scooted away- hissing as he felt the wound reopen. Angered, Vader latched onto his ankle and yanked Obi-wan toward him. The Padawan groaned as his body was pulled, Vader quickly climbed on top of him and stripped him. "You're so kriffing difficult for no Pfassk reason!" 

Vader ripped the remaining fabric off his skin and roughly shoved Obi-wan into the clean tabard. Threepio peered into the room and perked his shoulder when he saw Vader straddling the Padawan. The droid turned away in a bashful panic.

Obi-wan hissed as his arms we're pried into the sleeves, Vader ignored his discomfort. He gently slapped the Padawan's face when he finished dressing him.

"Now. Sleep." Vader got off him and headed toward the door. Threepio stepped into the room as his Master exited.

An awkward silence hung over the two. Obi-wan sighed- trying to expel all his frustration, he stared off into the night seeking solace in the stars.

| | | 

Qui-Gon strolled into the lounge, his unkempt hair sprang outwardly in all directions, his eyes still glued together from the night before. He lazily swerved his way through furniture until his depth perception failed him and he stubbed his big toe on one of the legs of the settee. Grunting incoherent profanities he limped into the kitchen. Squinting, he felt his way through the counter and grabbed a container of the instant caf. He stumbled through the cabinets - knocking over some cups before he settled on a mug.

“You’re rather lively,” Ben scooted over and took the mug from his hand, the Chancellor then set down the instant caf and rolled up his sleeve. He shot Qui-Gon a docile smile as he looked through the cabinets, with a solemn defeated tone he noted, “You have nothing here.” 

“There’s no reason why I should.” Qui-Gon leaned against the corner. His eyes fluttered open to meet Ben’s, a strange amber pulled at his heart when the Chancellor flashed his perfect smile. He shifted uncomfortably as goosebumps ran down his arms - the spark subsided as he pried his eyes away from Ben.

“Not even for me?” Ben stepped into his line of vision. The burning sensation resumed. As if on queue his heart stammered once more. His ears flared a bright red as he stared into Ben's bright blue eyes. The Chancellor didn't try to hide his fascination when Qui-Gon's face turned a pinkish hue.

Biting his lower lip, Qui-Gon shrugged off the remark. "I don't see why I should," He paused feeling his cheeks bearing lively flush, he arched a brow and teased, with the same level of smugness Ben had, "Especially for you."

Ben scoffed and playfully shook his head in arbitrary denial - faking an injury, he brought a hand to his chest and grimaced. "Master," He began to reprimand, "Not even for your favorite Padawan?"

He felt the corners of his mouth curl into an involuntary smile, "Whenever did I tell you you were my favorite padawan." He inched forward and towered over Ben - relishing the view. _Force. He's so small._ Unconscious of his actions, his hand reached out for the Chancellor's gloved one, "I don't think I ever said that, my dear _padawan_."

Ben obliged his former master's advance and entangled their fingers together. "You never did, but," His eyes flickered from their hands to Qui-Gon's flustered expression. "I always assumed."

He hummed. Tightening his grip on Ben's hand, he brought the Chancellor's fingers to his mouth and smiled, "Your assumption might be correct." 

"I have other assumptions I might want proven." He retracted his hands from its confinement and hastily tucked it behind his back. 

"Oh?" The corners of his mouth burned from delight. Sincerely awaiting the Chancellor's response, Qui-Gon straightened his posture and blew a loose strand of hair out of his face. One last-minute attempt to look presentable for his _favorite_ padawan.

"But that's for another time." Ben took a look through the open cabinets then at the disheveled man in front of him, "Would you like to join me for breakfast?"

Qui-Gon inspected the empty pantry. "I would love to."

| | | 

The Chancellor’s children were absolute angels. Well, when Leia wasn’t hitting or making Luke cry- then they were angels. The little girl always had some kind of pent up rage brewing inside her. That quite honestly baffled Qui-Gon. Ben was nowhere near this rage-filled. So, where could she have gotten such a nasty temper? He watched Leia and Luke playhouse- the only acceptable game they could play together, Leia refused to play anything else and Luke, being a complete pushover, affirmed her tyrannical behavior. 

Qui-Gon often wondered who their mother was. Who the woman that Ben fell in love with so much so that they had children. The children looked somewhat like him. Luke looked like his son, but Leia had distinguished features. Dark brown hair and olive skin. _She must take after her mother._ _She must have been a beautiful woman. Her children are beautifu_ l, a sad smile appeared on his lips as he watched the twins play.

Ben doesn’t speak much about his descended wife. Not even about his Jedi past. He refused to tell Qui-Gon why or how he left the Order or even if there was an Order to leave. One of the things that kept Qui-Gon up at night was the Order being eradicated in this universe. He’s heart ached at the notion of everything that he has come to know and love being taken from him. Qui-Gon couldn't imagine Ben being stripped of his home. His chest hurts thinking about how Ben must have felt when he realized he was alone. How much sadness he was holding inside him.

Unable to contain his growing concern, Qui-Gon marched into the kitchen, where Ben was preparing breakfast. He leaned against the wall as he watched Ben chop vegetables. The Chancellor caught a glimpse of his former Master. “Was it not you who taught me patience, Master?”

“Indeed I did.” 

Ben arched a brow then hummed as he lightly shook his head. “Then you should practice it. Wouldn’t want to set a bad example for _your_ Padawan.” There’s something about the way that Ben refers to himself as Padawan that both thrilled and scared Qui-Gon.

“I just wanted to ask about the twins’ mother.”

There isn't the slightest drop of grief in Ben’s voice, “What about her?”

Qui-Gon stared at the wedding ring on the Chancellor’s hand. “What happened to her.”

Ben paused for a moment to make eye contact. There's a saddened look in his eyes but he mourned not the death of his wife but another. "After Anakin's death." He placed the knife on the cutting board. "My wife, " He looked at the wedding ring on his finger. "She tried to avenge him, but Vader killed her."

Qui-Gon tried to reach into the Force to encourage Ben to release his suffering but there wasn't anything. He felt no remorse but rather what Qui-Gon felt was relief.

Alarmed, the Jedi distanced himself away from the Chancellor. Ben doesn't notice his discomfort and continued preparing the food. "It will be ready shortly."

The Force around Ben was muddled- contorted with a bottled rage Qui-Gon knew all too well, that same tangible anger that once festered inside his Master, Dooku. Qui-Gon nodded before he left Ben. 

He wasn't the type to snoop, but something about the Chancellor's demeanor begged Qui-Gon to search for answers anywhere he could.

Disregarding the twins' cries for another guest at their tea party, he marched into Ben's bedroom and surveyed the area. His eyes were immediately drawn to a transparisteel container sitting atop a table. He narrowed his gaze as he walked over to the trophies case.

A cold chill ran down his spin. He palmed the smooth material. He felt his chest tighten. Counting the lightsabers behind the screen, tears begin to develop in the corners of his eyes. He recognized the lightsabers. _Mace. Plo. Mundi. Tinn_ and his heart staggered as he's met with an all too familiar hilt. He swallowed the lump in this throat. _His_.

Another saber laid next to his. He didn't recognize it. Expertly crafted, it sat in the center of the display. He felt a jolt of fear pass him when Ben entered the bedroom. The Chancellor didn't speak a word, he just stood there staring, judging him.

"I-"

"Breakfast is ready."


End file.
